


Shooting Star

by onotherflights



Series: Almaty's Fire [2]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Drug Abuse, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-31
Updated: 2018-01-31
Packaged: 2019-03-11 23:10:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,571
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13534521
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/onotherflights/pseuds/onotherflights
Summary: “What did you wish for?” Yuri murmured. Otabek huffed, his teeth flashing. His rare smile looked even more heart-halting in the mornings. “You know I can’t tell you that.”or; a ficlet set in the Almaty's Fire verse, taking place after the events ofLucky Seven





	Shooting Star

**Author's Note:**

> Oops. I really didn't plan this, It just happened because I got a prompt on tumblr and I'm pretty sure i've lost control of how much of this verse I write by now. Please don't read this if you haven't read at least Lucky Seven first, it won't make much sense. Also if you're caught up on Almaty's fire, this isn't anything new. That is on its way though!

“Why do you need something to wish on?”

Otabek didn’t reply right away, his eyes were still closed. Yuri waited patiently, half amused. They were at the house, wrapped together in Otabek’s black sheets. His eyelashes were as pale of the rest of him, but Otabek had managed to find one on the round of his cheek in the morning sun, resting against the surface among faint freckles. Now he held it on the tip of his finger eyes shut and in the middle of a silent wish. In the other room, Serik would be awake and praying. Yuri wasn’t sure which one worked better. While his little brother was a man of faith, Otabek had always been more of a man of luck. It was certainly lucky that they’d both survived all of the nights they probably shouldn’t have.

He reached his hand out and gently traced the shape of Otabek’s top lip, the gentle dip of his cupid’s bow. He smiled softly, pressing a half kiss to Yuri’s finger. Finally, he opened his dark eyes and blew, sending his wish off.

“What did you wish for?” Yuri murmured.

Otabek huffed, his teeth flashing. His rare smile looked even more heart-halting in the mornings. “You know I can’t tell you that.”

Yuri allowed it, letting the silence fall. They were just coming off of the high from the night before. It had been one of their wilder gigs, not to mention everything they did after.

“Thanks for holding my hair back after Holly ditched.”

A kiss pressed to his forehead, and arms tightened around his frame.

“I’ll always take care of you, tiger.”

 

After the show that night, Yuri couldn’t find him backstage. He meandered through the crowd, stopping to talk to some of the people who were regulars at the show and brushing past others.

Being in a monogamous relationship with the lead singer of a band was a lot like being the first spouse of the president, Yuri suspected. The regulars would greet him with practiced acknowledgement, offering him drinks or a cigarette or whatever they had on them. They would listen to him talk, but their eyes didn’t really light up until Otabek’s name came up. They wanted to know about the music, the lifestyle, the perpetual next gig, the infinite next high. Yuri liked the attention, even if it was second-hand.

There were others who weren’t so fond of Yuri’s constant presence. Normally, rockstars left their relationships back home. It was a lot easier for a groupie to get in the singer’s pants for the night if there wasn’t someone there to stop them. Yuri knew that, since he’d been one of them. It was fun to play from the other side, knowing Otabek would never stray from him.

Sometimes, people would ask about Jarrod, too. He’d been sad lately, since he and Holly were off again. Surely the thought was that since Otabek was off limits they might go down the line, using Yuri to get to the bassist. He would play that game too, smirking and bringing over bright eyed girls to where Jarrod was sitting at the bar after the show. He would take one look at them, seeing the lack of blue hair, and put on his best impression of a kid raised in the Hills (which he was, but no one was allowed to talk about it). He would drop his voice and flirt with them, make them fall half in love with him, but never touch them. They weren’t Holly, after all.

Very few times, and always by someone who didn’t really know them, they would ask about the cute drummer.

That was how Yuri learned to give very convincing death threats. Also, how to win a fight. He may be small, but his legs were an advantage in more ways than one.

Speaking of Serik, he was able to find him backstage instead of his older brother.

Maybe some of the regulars didn’t like Yuri, but Serik always had. They’d bonded since that first day, when Yuri had shown him how to spin a basketball. Serik didn’t need to know that Yuri had learned the trick from his foster dad, one of many before he was removed from the house.

Backstage Serik was sitting, legs crossed, on top of an amp transporter and reading.

“Hey, why aren’t you packing up?”

Serik lifted one finger, and not the third one. He didn’t look up from the little white paperback in his hands.

“Let me finish this chapter,”

Yuri went over to him, hooking his chin on Serik’s shoulder. He read for a moment, and then pecked the top of his head. He’s stolen Otabek’s shampoo again, Yuri could smell it.

“Take all the time you need, bub.”

Serik did look up at that, his smile fond. Only Otabek and their eldest brother had been allowed to call him that, but he hadn’t said anything whenever Yuri let it slip.

With a wave and a swish of his plaid skirt, Yuri was sneaking out the back door.

 

Otabek wasn’t alone in the alley.

“Thanks man, I didn’t think I’d find any,” he was saying, his voice tapering off when he heard the door open. He turned his head to see Yuri, and smiled.

Seeing him in the moonlight like that was like seeing him for the first time. It happened over and over again in little moments, on nights like those. The drinks he’d downed had nothing to do with it.

“Hey angel, I was hoping you’d find me,” he said as he pulled Yuri in. He went easily, curling into the warmth of his side, tucked under his arm and his leather jacket.

Yuri looked over the man that was with them, but got bored quickly. He didn’t have kind eyes. He ignored Yuri, but that was already expected.

He looked back at Otabek, waiting.

It was subtle, the way it happened. If someone were to pass by or look out the window of their car speeding past in the downtown neon, it would just look like a handshake. A greeting between friends. A polite transaction.

Yuri knew better.

After that, the man was gone.

He wrapped his arms around Otabek and stood up on the toes of his chunky boots to kiss him.

Yuri wished they could stay there. He wished Otabek would kiss him harder, push him up against the brick wall. He wanted it to hurt sometimes, but Otabek never let it.

“You gonna hit?” Yuri murmured, all kiss-swollen lips and teeth. He didn’t know if he was hoping Otabek would nod or shake his head.

He nodded, and Yuri felt his hand move from where it was curled in his jacket pocket to the bone of his hip. He could feel it there.

It was so small in the baggie, and so pure white you would think it was something innocent.

“Hold still,” Otabek murmured routinely. Yuri looked away, then up at the stars. Otabek kissed the jut of his collarbone before he lined it up, every time. His bones were not meant to hold much, but when it rained sometimes drops of water would get trapped there. Otabek used this to his advantage, and Yuri held still.

He wished they were still kissing, still holding each other. He wished that was all there ever was.

He looked up to the stars, only a few of them distinguishable. Against his skin, Otabek inhaled deeply. He didn’t tremble like a beginner, he was used to the rush.

Above them, a shooting star passed. Yuri blinked in surprise.

“Beka, look, a shooting star,” He urged, but Otabek didn’t look up.

It passed so quick, only a moment in time.

It wasn’t like him to miss out on a wish, but maybe he didn’t need the extra luck.

 

The next morning, Yuri could swear no time had passed.

He rolled over, finding Otabek sitting up on his side of the bed. His legs were folded, and he was sitting with the same amount of silence and dedication as Serik had been the night before. He didn’t have a book, but his guitar.

For a moment, Yuri just listened. The acoustic was a beloved guest in the mornings, when Otabek found inspiration in the first hours of the morning and played until the sun rose.

Finally, Yuri pushed his blonde hair over his shoulder and sat up, pressing a greeting kiss to the lotus flower that was inked on the back of Otabek’s neck. He wrapped his arms around him over his shoulders, hooked his chin over.

Yuri didn’t know the song he was playing, but he was sure he would soon enough.

“Why do you need something to wish on,” He asked again gently. “Why do you need luck?”

The way he was sitting, Yuri could see the peek of the four-leaf clover that was on his ankle. He knew all the stories, and he knew the reasons now, but he never figured out why Otabek thought he was cursed so early on in his life, and why he’d been trying to make up for it and prove it in double time since then. There were things even Yuri didn’t know, and he’d told Otabek everything.

Otabek finally answered, dipping his head to press a kiss to Yuri’s knuckles.

“Why would I need luck anymore, when I have you?”

**Author's Note:**

> I have a lot of fun taking prompts and generally avoiding my life's responsibilities over on [tumblr. ](http://onotherflights.tumblr.com/post/170348878357/prompts-otayuri-shooting-star-and-begone-foul)


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